Demon Days
by Sakurafox666
Summary: A world of demons and the supernatural, focused on two hunters named Mal and Roy as they hunt for The Alpha. Collection of three shorts.
1. Thursday Night

**_Author's Notes_**_: So, I've officially decided I DON'T like FictionPress. Its structured the same way as FanFiction but I couldn't format any of my pieces inside the website and I don't really know the site that well. People aren't as friendly there as they are here. Anyways, I'm just going to post these shorts here and be done with it. The world of this collection of shorts was inspired by Supernatural and Buffy but it is its own as are the characters. Perhaps the only thing stolen was the word "gank" and "Hunter" cuz I can't imagine a demon-slaying world without those two words in them._

_This is Part 1 of the Demon Days series._

**_Chapter Rating: T_**_ (Blood, violence)_

**_Disclaimer: _**_These characters and this world actually are mine. Please don't steal. It wouldn't end well._

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><p><strong>Thursday Night<strong>

The faucet gurgled for a moment before water came pouring out. Cold splashing gobs before a steady stream and Mal stuck her hands underneath to wash off the blood. Fingernails were a bitch because the blood would dry and stick no matter what.

Jacket rolled to the elbows, dirt crusting the sleeves, Mal's dark hair hung in front of her eyes as she continued to scrub. The lights from the motel bathroom were dim and the edge of the mirror in front of her cracked. The faded tile floor had a trail of mud leading up to Mal, her steel-toed boots caked in the stuff. At least it had stopped raining outside.

Decapitations took a lot of effort.

Mal turned the handle and stopped the water, yanking a cheap towel off the bar to dry her arms. Rough cloth moving over old scars. She stalked out to the bedroom and threw the towel over her shoulder so that it hit the ground with a damp plop. On the bed lay a black duffle bag that had been patched several times with a dark heavy duck tape. Along the side read a worn and scratched gray patch with _White Star High '04_, the mascot next to it buried under tape.

Mal reached in and pulled out her Colt .45, dirt encrusted in the edges and handle cracked. She would need to clean and fix it before the gun could be used again. Clicking her tongue, Mal emptied the gun before tossing it onto the bed and watched the dirt flakes from it cover her squeaky mattress, stains from a previous tenant creeping across the corners. Mal paused as she stared at the gun and found herself sinking onto the bed, her knees shaking. She pressed her forehead against her hands and took a deep breath. Another. Breathe out. The shakes passed and the trembling finally stopped.

Mal looked over to the nightstand where her father's rosary lay. Red glass and wooden beads, the cross made of a sterling silver. All that she had left.

The alarm clock beeped and signaled the time was 4 AM. Time to go. Memories were for the weak and the fortunate.

Salt, lighter fluid, stakes, hunting knife, shotgun, and holy water all seemed to be fine and Mal zipped up the bag and swung it over her shoulders. Her backup Taurus PT38 .38 lay taped behind the cheap television stand and Mal ripped out, clicking the safety on before shoving it into the back of her jeans. As she turned to leave she stopped and swung around and snatched up the rosary, wrapping it around her right hand and swallowing her doubts. One demon down for the night, two to go.

A cold fog was brewing in the January night as Mal stepped outside, her breath misting before her. The garish neon lights from the motel sign cast everything in a weird glow and gave the shadows unusual colors, flickering at times as they died and came back. The air silent and still, smelling of dank earth and rotten trash. Her skin prickled. Hunting. Hunter. Prey.

Faded blue steel reflected her image as Mal walked to her old '76 Ford Mustang, restored from a wreaked heap and now a constant companion, sometimes the only one. Mal threw her duffle in through the open window to the back seats before popping open the door and sliding in. Roy had his seat leaned back and slept in the passenger seat. With a bang and sputter the engine started for Mal and Roy jerked up with a snap.

"Mornin', sunshine," Mal said. "Got us more demons to gank."

Roy gritted his teeth and looked down at his watch. "Well that didn't take long." He glanced back up, eyes sweeping over her. "Are you alright? You took a beating back there."

"There's something different about these." Mal admitted and her grip tightened on the steering wheel. "I wasn't sure before, but these could lead us to The Alpha."

"One day you'll explain what this alpha did," Roy said. "One day you'll stop being so angry."

"Yeah, yeah and one day I'll die." Mal shrugged, her grip still white on the wheel and shoulders tense. She smiled but it felt fake and plastic.

"Fine. Keep pretending." Roy scowled and pulled his hoodie over his eyes before laying back in his chair and rolling over. Mal steered out of the motel lot before peeling away and making for the edge of town where their second mark could be found. The streets were empty and the fog thick but Mal made good time. Speeding calmed her down, made it so she didn't have to listen to her heart pound in her ears.

The brittle barn was aged, dilapidated, and the perfect set for a Hollywood horror. So cliché it almost hurt. Mal ditched the car a few hundred feet away in the tall grass and Roy went to the trunk to get his own stuff. They circled the building, slow and steady. The almost-full moon shone down, the world soft in it's light while the ground felt sharp and hard, uneven in places with the old gravel road. Mal and Roy were making too much noise with the crunch of boots and rocks. It would give them away. Fog could only conceal so much.

Mal flicked her wrist and Roy's footsteps vanished. Mal crouched low as she pulled out her gun and checked the barrel. Light as air she ran for the door, the night wrapped around her, and with a crash she split open the door and rolled in. It was immediate, the inhuman shriek that made Mal's bones throb.

She thrashed and moved to cover behind a crate as the rafters above shifted and creaked. A slither in the air. The noise broke and Mal sprang forward, aiming. One—two shots rang. Wood splintered. Yellow eyes from the darkness glowed.

Nothing pretty or graceful could be said about the way they fought. Sweat, blood, oil, sulfur, broken skin, bruised flesh, grunts, and smoke. Mal smashed a bottle of holy water across it's head and it burned through the skin in a white steam. The air vibrated with the demon's screams and the stink of burnt hair and rotting corpses filled the barn, but nothing had died. Adrenaline still flooded Mal's senses.

A click and spark.

Fire rose from every corner of the room, blossomed into the air and light came from darkness. Roy stood with a lighter in hand and a painted symbol on the wall behind him, dark red and sticky. He smiled and the mark glowed, the creature reared back in fear, trapped by the flames. Mal acted, she drew her blade and leapt, sinking it into the demon's back.

Blood, black as the night, gushed from beneath her and the long spine arched and shook. Mal slipped, the liquid coating her hands, weakening her grip, and she tumbled through the air. The ground rushed to meet her with a painful crash and the world danced in front of her eyes. Stars shone where there should only be dark shadows and the fire laughed.

Lightening cracked and Roy's voice called out.

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><p>.<p>

**_A/N_**_: So as this is original work, feedback is most certainly appreciated and encouraged. Thank you very much for taking the time out of your day to read this._

_-Sakura_


	2. Tuesday Morning

**_Author's Notes_**_: The first two shorts don't take place in any particular order. In one the assignment was to demonstrate action and in the other, dialogue._

_This is Part 2 of the Demon Days series._

**_Chapter Rating: T_**_ (Blood, violence, cursing)_

**_Disclaimer: _**_These characters and this world actually are mine. Please don't steal. It wouldn't end well._

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><p><strong>Tuesday Morning<strong>

The cold night air bit at Mal's fingertips while she dug up the grave. Hard grain wood against her hands, she sunk the shovel deep into the soil and lifted. Mildew lay on the grass now, frozen and glistening in the moonlight. Low mist glimmered near the ground and hovered, waiting to be taken by the sun at dawn.

"It's sad how familiar this seems to me now," Roy sighed from where he was perched atop the headstone. "Two years ago, this would've freaked me out."

"Two years ago you _did_ freak out," Mal shoveled the dirt up to ground level. "You screamed like a little girl when I broke the casket."

"I'd never seen a dead body before! Now hurry up."

"Might go faster if somebody helped me down here."

"I'm keeping lookout."

"For what?" Mal hefted more dirt up. "There aren't any guards and we have a ring of salt around this area. That bitch isn't getting through," she paused, stripped her jacket off, and went back to digging. Hair matted with sweat, the gauze wrapped around her head soaked and mixing with the blood from her wound.

"You never know, ghosts are unpredictable. She could show up at any time and try to slaughter us again. Sorry, but I don't feel like getting thrown through another wall today."

"Dude, she barely touched you." Mal rolled her eyes and looked up at her partner. "At least she didn't fling a wooden table at your head," she scratched at her bandage, "although, I should've been paying more attention."

"Stop that," Roy said, "you'll just make it worse." He spun the shovel in his hand for a moment before meeting Mal's eyes. "You're ok, right?"

Mal shrugged and went back to digging. "I've had worse."

"Another sad part: your definition of 'worse' is much different than others."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember in Dallas?"

"Good times."

"Mal, they'd slashed your right arm open and you were pouring blood."

Mal just blinked at him.

Roy threw his hands up. "You've got a death wish. Move over, I'll dig."

"He finally does something useful." Mal smiled and climbed out of the grave, flopping onto the ground and releasing a huff of breath. It shimmered before her in the dark January air. She looked across to where a huge mound of dirt lay from their efforts. Almost there.

"Don't get used to it," Roy said, jumping down and taking his position. Mal rolled onto her stomach, relishing the feel of the wet grass against her arms. She moved closer to the headstone and looked down at Roy, one hand propped under her head.

"But, y'know, you got out of it okay," she said. Roy paused.

"Excuse me?"

"Dallas. The werewolves. You made it out fine."

"Yeah," Roy agreed, "by sheer dumb luck. Or, well, because of you. I swear, it's like you wanted them to kill you." He went back to digging, rather forcefully.

"I didn't _want_ them to kill me," Mal frowned, "I've got better things to do than get ganked by a tiny pack of half-breed mutts."

"Right, your alpha."

"The Alpha."

"One day you'll tell me about that."

"No," Mal picked at her father's rosary that wrapped around her right wrist, "one day I'll just kill it."

"Then will you stop being so angry?" Roy asked, his back to her, still digging. Mal opened her mouth—

Wood fractured and cracked open beneath Roy's shovel, dust rising.

"And we're in!" Mal leaped up and leaned over the headstone to where her duffle bag lay, pulling out lighter fluid, salt, and a box of matches. The splintering of wood could be heard behind her as Roy ripped the casket open, nothing but pale old bones inside. "Let's do this." Mal walked over to the edge.

"I don't know what I want more: shower, sleep, or a drink." Roy sighed as he climbed out. Mal held out her hand and helped him up before handing off the salt. Roy poured it over the bones while Mal emptied the lighter fluid on them.

"I want coffee or a Rockstar," Mal finished with the lighter fluid and threw it back in the bag. "Dan sent me some new journals that I need to go over. There might be a reference to The Alpha in them." She pulled out three matches and lit them in one sweep, tossing them into the grave. Flames shot up and an haunting cry, like that of a lost lover, sounded in the distance.

"I hope this gives you peace," Roy looked at the headstone. "Martha Williams."

"Whatever, she killed ten people over the past fifty years. She can go to Hell," Mal shoved her hands in her pockets. Roy gave her a sidelong glance.

"You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do."

"She was murdered by her husband, violent deaths create—"

"Most murders _are_ violent," Mal bit out, "and death isn't easy, but that doesn't give a person the right to go around and kill others just because they weren't happy with how they died. Ghosts like that, ghosts like her, they're just weak."

The shadows danced around the pair as the bones burned and a spirit died. The fire made a sharp contrast to the nip of the night air. In silence, Mal and Roy filled in the grave and patted it back down. The hunt was over. They walked back to the car where the sun was just starting to peak over the horizon.

"Mal," Roy said, sliding into the passenger's seat, "when you get back to your motel room, please just sleep. You need it."

"I'm fine," Mal said. She started up the car and pulled away.

"You had a wooden table thrown at your head...and it _hit_. You need to change the bandage and you need to sleep. Just do it, okay?"

"Roy—"

"Please?"

Mal refused to look at Roy.

"Fine," she said, "but just for a couple of hours."

"Deal," Roy sighed and leaned back into his seat. He threw his arms over his eyes. "Thanks."

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><p>.<p>

**_A/N_**_: Hopefully you got a better sense of the characters in this piece. I really had fun writing Mal and Roy, Mal in particular took an interesting turn outside of her original arc. _

_As this is original work, feedback is most certainly appreciated and encouraged. Thank you very much for taking the time out of your day to read this._

_-Sakura_


	3. Saturday Afternoon

**_Author's Notes_**_: The final part and technically could be read separately as this was written as its own short story. Anyways, please enjoy._

_This is Part 3 of the Demon Days series._

**_Chapter Rating: T_**_ (Blood, violence, language)_

**_Disclaimer: _**_These characters and this world actually are mine. Please don't steal._

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><p><strong>Saturday Afternoon<strong>

The polished steel of the '76 black Mustang closed with a snap beneath Mal's fingers. Bag secured over her shoulders, she turned to the right to eye the forest they had parked in front of, acknowledging the increased pulse of her heart for the first time. Roy leaned above the hood, going over the map, jaw set and brows furrowed. Mal joined him at his side, peering down, looking for the quickest path.

"Let's go." Mal turned towards the forest, stretching her fingers, flexing them out and making a fist several times. The late afternoon wind whistled through the shifting branches, a warm and humid breeze that ruffled Mal hair. She swept at her dark locks with a hand and pushed the hair out of her face. Light and shadow danced around her, the canopy above rustling and shifting with the wind as she stalked further inward.

"Mal!" Roy called and caught up. "Did you get what you needed from Dan?"

"Yeah."

Mal kept her footsteps light, fast. Moved through the sea of trees and dirt like a silent ghost, never pausing. The compass felt cold, a worn brass with chipped edges chafing against her father's rosary wrapped around her hand. Ruby beads sliding against the golden metal.

Quiet, with only the wind as its voice through the cascadence of dark green and pale yellow leaves, the forest stayed silent. Moss-eaten rocks and dead logs littered the floor, small, twisted shrubs lined the base of the trees, and nothing stirred below. Animal life seeming gone and an uncomfortable pressure pushed at the back of Mal's mind.

She felt Roy tense and lean closer, head turning towards the sky, then behind them. The pressure intensified.

"The Alpha." Mal narrowed her eyes, glancing back to the trees surrounding them. The peeling bark, the gnarls and twists of the wood, slicked with moisture protected by the dense brush. Shadows snaked their way across the ground like veins towards them and nothing looked safe. "When it comes, focus on exorcising it."

"I can do more." Roy strode up, trying to match Mal's pace and catch her gaze. She let him, but he couldn't hold it very long, as always, and fell back. Mal blew out a sigh between clenched teeth.

"This way is better."

The sun moved through the sky and the shadows grew longer. Their pace quickened, chasing the dusk until both Hunters nearly reached a full run. The temperature fell, cold settled in the air and the wind became a steady moan, echoing and playing through the forest.

The taste of blood came to Mal's mouth, fire and ash coming alive across her skin, the scent of smoke and burning flesh as the memory came back. Blood crawling on the floor, pooling around her hands, legs so weak she couldn't stand, couldn't move. Around his neck, the rosary she bought him, silver cross flickering with the firelight. Clearest in her mind: the howling laughter and a grin made of jagged teeth.

"Mal!" Dirt exploded at her feet, something crashing to the ground, sharp claws lashing out and catching. The leather of her jacket tore, momentum whirling her down, tumbling through a rush of leaves and color. Mal surged in an instant, crouched. A demon, rotting pallid flesh and red eyes came at her with its fangs bared. No hesitation, Mal's elbow smashed into its jaw sent the creature reeling back, howling. It swung, her arm came up to block—the world tilted as another body crashed into hers.

"Dammit, Roy!" Mal watched the claws sink into her partner's arms, blood splashing out. She snatched the hood of his jacket and yanked him back as the demon lunged and tried to snap its jaws around his neck.

They stumbled back, Mal reaching into her bag and pulling out a shotgun, letting a round off in the demon's chest. The salt-filled shots burst across its torso and seared away at the flesh. She grinned. The creature fell to the ground screaming. A cough and Roy stirred next to her.

"Idiot." Mal grabbed his arm, looking it over. She felt the tremor running through his body and she softened her grip.

Roy looked around. "Where did it come from?"

She glanced up, "I don't have time for this."

"Means we're close?"

"Didn't plan on The Alpha having friends." Mal pulled Roy up and they stood back to back. The density of trees pressing against them, bark shifting from gentle brown to murky gray and the leaves a stark black. From the shadows more demons approached.

Few still kept their humanoid forms; most were long, hunched over, sinewy cords of muscle and skeletal limbs with cracked, bleeding skin and pits for eyes. Claws that tore at the trees when they climbed, jagged spines protruding from their backs, dragging themselves up from the bowels of the earth.

Mal clenched her teeth. "Too many."

The wind rushed above through the trees, snapping at the leaves. Mal noticed the weight of her father's rosary.

"Go." Roy said.

"What?"

"Go!"

"You'll—"

"Go, Mal! Just go and kill it." He slipped her the paper with the exorcism on it.

Mal turned and ripped the pin from one of her grenades, tossing it into the air. A crack and it detonated, sending showers of salt raining down. The air filled with the screams of demons as she ran deeper into the forest, glancing back one last time and seeing Roy's back. His shoulders broader than she remembered, the light shifting and swirling around him.

Mal ran. Leaping over fallen trees, dodging rocks, chest throbbing and heartbeat wild in her ears. The world narrowed. No longer hearing the wind, smelling the earth or leaves, not noticing the change in light. Her mind on the Alpha.

A cackle sounded in the distance and the blood rushed through her veins. The pressure in her mind intensified. A spatter of dark blood stood out in a sliver of sunlight. Black. A demon's.

A shadow passed over, fluid through the air. Mal halted, spinning around as she searched for the beast, but nothing. A trick. She shook her head and pushed her hair back with a hand, then pinching the bridge of her nose. She pressed her thumb against the rough cut ruby beads of the rosary, sliding it between fingers, and took off again.

Branches whipped at her face, breathing a ragged mess. The shadows growing longer, spreading their darkness. More blood appeared, now in a fine trail, and she no longer needed the compass. Mal threw it to the side.

A low, long howl ripped through the air, rising in pitch and stuttering until it ended in a laugh. Everything else paled against it.

"Where are you!" Mal crashed through a thicket of trees and leapt over a small ledge, landing, feet sinking into the soft earth. It stood there, teeth gleaming white in a smile that made Mal's stomach churn, the back of her throat becoming bitter.

The Alpha looked human, except its eyes. Filled-in black with electric red irises. And the smile. Too wide. Teeth too sharp. The way she remembered, how it appeared in her nightmares. Now it stood in front of her, covered in its own blood.

Mal's duffle bag hit the ground and she lunged forward, knife in hand. The Alpha blurred, dancing away like shadow in candlelight. Mal stumbled but manage to catch herself, knuckles scraping against the earth as she pushed up and slashed at the monster. Again and again. Each time, The Alpha stepped back a bit further, drawing her in a bit more, laughing.

She tried to feign left and go right, but The Alpha leapt back, slipping through her grasp like smoke. One step back. One step back. Mal charged, not thinking, just screaming with every swing, putting more force behind each with every miss. It ended when The Alpha lashed out and struck her in the chest. The ground greeting the Hunter with pain and cracked ribs.

"Fuck!" Mal's finger's dug into the dirt; scratched, bleeding. The Alpha's laugh drifting over. Her head snapped up, mouth a thin line and eyes narrowed. She spit blood and stood, body trembling.

"Nice to see you again." Voice like whiskey and honey poured over gravel, The Alpha looked her down, blood red eyes resting on Mal's left hand. The rosary felt heavy in it.

"So sweet, isn't it?"

Mal ripped the exorcism from her back pocket. The Alpha's eyes widen, but not with fear.

"Catch me," the monster cooed, turning on its heel before disappearing into the forest. She followed.

The world became undefined, trees lost their shape, the ground simply a colorless plain, even the sky a useless distraction as Mal raced through it, boots pounding, sending a jolt along her cracked ribs. Wind, leaves, trees, light, shadow all spun around, a tunnel only appearing to where The Alpha led.

The end, when she got to the end, finally she could be free. Tears welled in her eyes. Just kill The Alpha and —

The crooked root came out of nowhere, Mal's foot caught and she pitched forward. Instinct taking over and her arms flew up just in time. She coughed and sucked in a breath, ribs grinding, and a broken moan fought its way out. She lay doubled over, half sprawled on the dirt. Everything still and quiet.

Mal tried to push herself up. A new pain came, her hand. Mal looked down and lifted her left, covered in blood where her father's rosary cut deep. Bright red and like water it dripped down the ruby beads and onto the silver cross. She stared at her hand, at the blood, at the rosary.

Her father had loved it. Said it was the second best present he receive. Next to her. He hadn't deserved how he'd died. He deserved justice. Vengeance.

Mal gripped the rosary tighter and blood flowed more freely from her hand as she looked for the trail The Alpha must have left. Taunting, as always. Then, her hearing returned and the clash of screams and gunshots could be heard in the distance.

_Roy._

Not now. She looked ahead and continued searching. Another few seconds she found The Alpha's black blood leading deeper into the forest, beyond her line of sight. Mal hesitated, the screaming becoming louder to her ears. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block everything out again, find that clarity of focus, that single-mindedness needed to catch The Alpha. The sounds persisted, drilling into her mind.

She couldn't lose her way, not now, not so close to the end. One person shouldn't matter. Roy was an adult, knew the risks. He shouldn't matter. He didn't matter. Killing The Alpha was everything. Mal needed to.

Her hand had become numb, the pain receding and she opened her eyes to look down at it. So much blood.

She was a screwed up individual, she knew. Chasing one demon for years, killing anything remotely supernatural along the way. Liking it. A thrill every time one died by her hand. Unhinged, that's what they called it.

Roy wasn't. A good man, not bitter and callous to the world. Didn't deserve everything Mal must have put him through. Shouldn't have put up with it, but did. He was stupid like that, and kind. Had an actual heart.

Tears fell from Mal's eyes, her whole body aching. If she didn't get The Alpha, if she didn't bring her father justice—she took a deep stuttering breath that left as a sob. Nothing would change.

A single demon would be dead, as well as a good man.

Her grip loosened on the rosary and the bleeding slowed. She looked up and the world stopped spinning. Standing, the ground solid beneath her feet, she turned and ran back. Mal focused on her surroundings, listening for gunshots, the wind working against her. The dying sun caught a golden light and she spotted her compass, scooping it up and quickly finding her bearings, making a slight turn in Roy's direction.

The demons' shrieks grew louder and she burst through the trees, plowing into the demon that sat clawing away at Roy, rolling over and smashing a glass vial of holy water against it. The creature screamed and drew back to attack, but Mal sat ready, her engraved knife flew threw through the air, puncturing the monster's chest and darkness poured from its mouth as it choked and died. She remained crouched, ready for the others to come.

But they were all dead.

"Roy!" Mal spun around, Roy lay still on the ground. "Roy!" She ran over and dropped to her knees, fingers going straight to his neck, ignoring the blood on his chest.

One of Roy's eyes cracked open, "What're..."

Mal gave a shaky sigh and coughed, wincing as her ribs protested. She took another breath, tried to let out a steadier one. It didn't work, her ribs were screaming.

"Did you—" She clutched at the front of Roy's jacket and hauled him up, trying to keep him steady as they both wavered.

"Can you walk?"

"Can you?" Mal took one of his arms and acted as a crutch, dragging them back to the car. Roy looked around. "The alpha?" He stumbled and she gripped him tighter.

"Look at you," Mal said, "It's supposed to be the other way around."

"Where's the alpha? God, you're covered in blood..."

She continued to ignore him and let him babble. One foot in front of the other, back towards the car. Slow going, but each step felt lighter, the damned echo of laughter fading from her mind. The sun had almost set by the time they made it back to the gravel road outside the forest.

"Christ, Mal, your hand!" Roy fidgeted, "Tell me what happened? Did you finally get to kill that Alpha?"

The passenger door unlocked and Mal eased Roy into the seat. He grabbed her undamaged jacket cuff when she tried to move away. Their eyes finally met. She'd forgotten that his were blue.

They stayed liked that, locked. Mal, for the first time, dropped her eyes first and took a moment. When she raised them again Roy's own were wide, mouth open. He let go and she pushed the door shut, stumbling over to the other side and collapsing in her own seat.

"But..." If anyone had the right to look heartbroken, it should be Mal. She started the engine and maneuvered the car back onto the empty highway. "What about what you wanted?" Roy's head bowed forward.

Mal looked at him. "You're alive." His eyes came to hers again. She turned back to the road, pulling off her father's rosary and hanging it around the rearview mirror. It swayed slightly to the rhythm of the car's motion. Silence filled the car and she listened to Roy's breathing, hands steady on the wheel.

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><p>.<p>

**_A/N_**_: And there it is. I hope you enjoyed the story._

_As this is original work, feedback is most certainly appreciated and encouraged. Thank you very much for taking the time out of your day to read this._

_-Sakura_


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